


Auld Lang Syne

by Ceallaigh



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-31
Updated: 2010-01-31
Packaged: 2017-10-06 21:22:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ceallaigh/pseuds/Ceallaigh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Originally posted 19 November 2004.</p><p>Very little research went into this story, so any inaccuracies regarding Central Park, New York City and the year in question are par for the course. Heck, I don't even know if it was snowing that night. I wrote this at midnight, and I have no idea if anything transpired at the front doors, so cut me some slack. Vague references to the Bobby Comfort heist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Auld Lang Syne

**Author's Note:**

  * For [paratti](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=paratti).



Another year had come and gone in the blink of any eye. 1972 crept into the world under a blanket of snow that spread out like a fluffy quilt over the expanse of Central Park. Snowflakes the size of flower petals danced under the yellowy glow of the street lamps. In the distance fireworks and even the occasional gunfire punctuated the passing of the old and the ushering in of the new year. If he closed his eyes and concentrated, Spike could blot out the sounds of the cars in the distance and relish the quiet whispers of the winter around him.

In no hurry, he sat at the foot of Sherman while he waited for Drusilla to emerge from her walk near the Pond. Sated and full, he was perfectly content to watch the revelers head down Fifth Avenue. There would be time to hunt again later when the crowd had more champagne and martinis to dull their defenses. Shooting fish in a bloody barrel. It would be all too easy then.

And then he saw her, his wicked queen. Swathed in black, she pirouetted in circles as she entered the plaza, her shirt fluttering about as she danced to a tune that only she could hear. Her laughter filled the air, and there was no place in the world than he'd rather be than right there.

Somewhere along the way, she'd lost her coat. The milky white of her skin stood out against the velvet of her dress. But she didn't seem to even notice the cold even as the snow gathered in her hair.

"The snowflakes taste like diamonds!" Dru called out as she spun around one last time and tried to catch them on her tongue.

Her heel skidded across the ice, and she tumbled to the ground with an unceremonious thump. Again her laughter was music to his ears. Leaving his perch, he hurried over to her as she spread out her arms and legs to make snow angel. He knelt beside her and licked the blood smeared across her lower lip.

"And you, my dark beauty, taste like blood."

Once a gentleman, always a gentleman, he offered his hand and helped her up. "The rumblies in my tumbly have gone away. The ice was thin, and the pretty girl decided she wanted a swim."

"Did she now?" The Pond, not the best place to hide a body, but it was better than nothing. "And did anyone else see her take the plunge?"

"Oh no, darling. She wanted to swim with the little fishes by herself. Dove right to the bottom, the rude little poppet. She didn't want to wait for me."

Witnesses or not, it was time to move on. A body would be found soon enough. One of those posh hotels sounded like wonderfully warm alternative to the frozen park. Celebrate the holiday with tipsy debutants and expatriated barons, luring them back to their rooms, drinking them dry then wrapping up in one of those fluffy hotel bathrobes and ordering room service. Dru and he could easily slip out and leave the corpses with the bill.

There could be worse ways to mark the new year.

He stripped off his long woolen coat and draped it over Drusilla's shoulders before announcing, "Onward! Feeling a might peckish for some upper crust."

They strolled arm in arm a few blocks north like the other reveling couples on the pavement. The Pierre jutted high above the street, its doormen decked out in long grey coats punctuated with big brass buttons. Opulent didn't even begin to describe the place. Sinfully decadent was more like it. He'd walked past it many times and remembered the clientele well. The quarry was definitely upscale: rich old ladies with tiny barky dogs in tow, a sheik from Arabia. Even the whores that snuck in and out were classy.

He waited for two cabs and police car to pass before he escorted Dru across the street and headed toward the hotel. One of the doormen tipped his hat in greeting as they walked up the steps. As they reached the doors, four men in tuxedos strode through the lobby with duffel bags under their arms. Spike caught he metallic glint of a pistol tucked into the cummerbund of one of them.

Someone else was having a joyous new year at the Pierre's expense. Ah, New York, a city that truly never slept. His kind of town.

Instead of impeding the four, Spike opened the door and held it open as all four streamed outside. A white van, the type caterers and plumbers alike used pulled up to the curb like clockwork, and the sliding door opened. The first three streamed in to the darkened belly in quick succession.

"C'mon, Bobby!" one yelled. "We have to go!"

The fourth paused for a moment and dug into his coat pocket. He pressed his hand into Spike's. "Thanks, man," he said. "Little something for your girl"

And with that, number four joined his companions. The door slid closed, and the van joined the rest of the traffic streaming down Fifth Avenue.

Spike pocketed the tip without even looking at it and followed Drusilla inside. He brushed the snow off her shoulders and took her by the hand and headed toward the fete inside.

Two glasses of champagne and an hour or so later, Spike swayed with his Dru in time to the music in the ballroom. It didn't take long to blend into the crowd. Dru snuggled closer and nibbled the sweet spot below his adam's apple. "What did the nice man give, you Spike?" she finally asked.

Digging into his pocket, he tried not to gasp at what he found. Rather, he took her delicate wrist and wrapped the elegant diamond bracelet around it. Drawing her hand to his mouth, he placed a kiss over her absent pulse point and answered, "Just some snowflakes that taste like diamonds, pet."


End file.
